


Extraction

by INMH



Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [24]
Category: The Alienist (TV), The Alienist - Caleb Carr
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Drug Use, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Strong Language, Toothache, tooth extraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25523974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: John recovers from a tooth extraction; Laszlo checks in on him.
Relationships: Laszlo Kreizler & John Moore
Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789369
Kudos: 15





	Extraction

“John, are you awake?”  
  
A watery gurgle answered Laszlo’s question.  
  
He edged into the dark room and observed John lying facedown on his bed in a way that would be alarming had Laszlo not just confirmed that he was still alive. He set the glass of water in his good hand on the bedside table. Then he moved to the bed, sat down, and put a hand on John’s back, giving it a light pat. “John, how are you?”  
  
“ _Ugh_ ,” John grunted, shifting slightly.  
  
Laszlo was hard pressed to recall a time he had ever seen John so hopelessly loaded on alcohol and opium; at least this time the stupor they induced was serving a practical purpose. “John, sit up for me, please.”  
  
“ _Nahntaw,_ ” John grumbled, which Laszlo took to be a mashing of ‘No’ and ‘I don’t want to’.  
  
“You need to: You need to drink something, maybe get some food down your throat if you can.”  
  
The next sound John made was one of more general discomfort; but now, at least, Laszlo saw him trying to push himself up. He coughed, spitting some blood onto the towel Laszlo had laid beneath his head before he’d collapsed and passed out. The act of coughing made him groan, and then he coughed again, and this turned into a hellish cycle of coughing and groaning and gagging that went on for several minutes; Laszlo could think of no assistance or guidance that he could offer. Eventually, though, John was able to sit up.  
  
“Here.” Laszlo handed him a spare towel he had left at the end of the bed, one that had evidently gone untouched. The one John had been lying on was covered in spittle and blood. “I don’t suppose the pain has reduced, has it?”  
  
“Eh.” John gave a slight shrug as he shakily dabbed at his face with the towel. He had been admirably brave whilst the remains of the broken tooth had been pulled- but then, he had started drinking and taking the opium before dealing with the dentist, which might have gone a good ways towards soothing his nerves before the procedure. Most every pedestrian they had passed on the way back to John’s home had likely assumed that Laszlo was leading a friend home after a night of drunken revelry.  
_  
Well, I suppose it wouldn’t have been too far off the mark._  
  
Laszlo gave a cursory glance over John’s face. His jaw was swollen, but that was to be expected given that it had had a tooth ripped from it. But there didn’t seem to be visible bruising, the redness wasn’t as bad as it could be, and the fluids on the towel were appropriate colors that did not imply infection. He handed the water to John, who managed a few gulps and only dribbled a little.  
  
“I feel,” John managed, the words slurred and spoken as though through a mouth full of cotton, “Like ife loft a fight.”  
  
“I suppose it isn’t too far of a stretch, seeing as how the tooth rotted from damage. This could very well be the result of a lost fight.”  
  
John gave him an intensely withering look that no amount of pain or disorientation could dampen.  
  
“How does your jaw feel? Better or worse than immediately after the extraction?”  
  
“Bit better, I gueth.”  
  
“Nothing alarming?”  
  
“You’ll beef the firth to know.”  
  
“Assuming you don’t choke to death on your own saliva.”  
  
“Oh go _home_ , Lathlo.”  
  
Laszlo rolled his eyes. He took the glass from John’s hand and set it back on the bedside table (he made a note to replace it- the remaining water had turned pinkish from the backwash of John’s blood). “I will remain until I am content that you are completely functional and capable of feeding and watering yourself. You are a good friend, and I would hate to lose you because you were too pained and high to properly navigate a flight of stairs.”  
  
John sighed, pushing the soiled towel out of the way and throwing the cleaner one down to put his head on. “I’m going back toothleep.”  
  
“You do that, John. I will be here if you need me.”  
  
“Will you bring me opium?”  
  
“No.” A flat, unhesitant declaration.  
  
“Then what uthe are you?”  
  
Laszlo shook his head, rolled his eyes to the heavens once more, and then lifted himself from the bed. He grabbed the tainted water from the bedside and headed for the door. “If you need anything- other than drugs or alcohol- you let me know, John.”  
  
“Will do, Lathlo.”  
  
-End


End file.
